


Bromance

by seatbeltdrivein



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M, Multi, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-30
Updated: 2010-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-11 08:58:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seatbeltdrivein/pseuds/seatbeltdrivein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up in a strange place with no pants on and two naked men around are all signs of an excellent party. Unless you're Percy Weasley. [Written for HP Rarities' 2010 round.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bromance

His veins were flooded with firewhiskey, had to be, Percy knew, for such a thing to be happening.

"A little harder," Bill's breath hit his ear, and Percy's hand clenched tighter, wrist moving faster. "_Yeah_, like that—fuck, you're good."

Charlie's hands skimmed up his sides, his chest to Percy's back, and nothing in life had ever felt this _perfect_. Bill jerked his hips, cock pulsing, and Charlie and Percy and, hell, even Bill, they groaned in unison, voices carrying.

After all that liquor, they shouldn't have been able to get anything going long enough for a single orgasm, but the three of them just kept going. The room reeked of sex and come and sweat and alcohol. "Come on," Charlie muttered, and Percy pushed back against his groin, guided by Bill's hands on his hips. He'd give up fucking women forever, Percy vowed, if he could just have this, just them and him all together, for another second.

  
*

Percy squinted his eyes, the morning light hitting him with the power of a thousand hangovers. Possibly more. He might have gone right back to sleep if it weren't for the elbow in his face and the knee lodged up against his arse. 'Oh, oh hell,' he thought, freezing. 'Oh _hell_.' He couldn't remember what happened. Or, rather, he could remember _what_ happened, but not the _who_ of that equation. Just as he'd mustered up the courage to extricate himself from the bed and flee, he realized two things: One, he was in bed with _two men_. Two, they were his brothers.

"I can hear you thinking," Charlie groaned from beside him. "Stop it."

Percy gargled incoherently, not bothering to struggle when Bill shoved his head back into the pillow and demanded another hour of sleep.

It was not, he reflected, the best way to start one's day.

*

A loud crash woke Percy several hours later, his head still aching and fogged over from too much firewhiskey. Bill's leg was the only thing still on the bed, the rest of his body spread out across the floor—_whose house is this?_ was not a question Percy felt like bothering with—with several books upended on his chest. As Percy leaned over the bed, he caught sight of the title _1,000 Ways to Kill Your Enemies, ed. 456_.

_To hell with this!_ he thought, untangling himself from Charlie's arms and looking wildly around the strange room for some indication of his clothes' whereabouts. If his clothes had been there at any point in time, he quickly surmised that they no longer were. Creeping around Bill's prone form, he eased himself off the bed, wrapping the sheet around his waist and darting out the door.

He got out of the house and Apparated immediately as he stepped out of the front door—or what he _thought_ was the front—and cracked out of sight, dropping shoulder-first into the tiny sitting room of his flat. He stayed on the floor for a good few minutes, right up until his aching body demanded he get up.

"It didn't happen," he said loudly. "Nothing happened, and certainly nothing with—with those two!"

"Really?"

Percy swung around at the voice, stumbling over the trailing sheet and catching his grip on the sofa. "You!"

"Me!" Charlie said. He looked completely at ease, standing naked in his younger brother's living room. "You left."

"Of course I did! What else would I have done?" It was uncomfortable. The dragon tattoo across Charlie's chest kept flicking its tail at him and blowing suggestive looking smoke rings. "Can you—can you at least put some trousers on?"

A sudden crack interrupted whatever the other man had intended to say, and Bill stood next to him. "There he is!"

"Why," Percy asked, strained, "are you both here?"

"You left," Bill shrugged.

"Yes, I've been told." It was surreal. They were all three of them stark naked, Percy only just barely covered by the sheet slipping down his waist and pooling at his feet. "Not that there was anything to leave," he added quickly. "Because there wasn't."

His brothers exchanged looks, and Percy ground his teeth together, overcome by the urge to stamp his feet and demand an explanation. He would have done, too, if Bill hadn't cut him off.

"Last night, well. I'm sure you remember what happened." Percy stared blankly until Bill sighed, rubbing his temples. "It's not that difficult, Percy. It happens."

"We're related," Percy stressed. "And you! You're _married_!" Completely scandalized, he wrenched the sheet up under his armpits, staring balefully at the thin covering.

"Like he said," Charlie laughed. "It happens!"

"It's not supposed to!" Never before had the younger man felt so flustered, his face burning all the way to the tips of his ears. "We're RELATED."

"We're brothers," the oldest said simply, as if that made it all well. Percy's lips thinned disapprovingly.

"It would be best if we pretended this never happened." He stared at the ground, unable to meet their eyes. How could it be so simple to them? How could this—this _whatever it was_ not get under their skin?

"Can't you just _listen_?" Charlie never had known when to let go, not when they were children and certainly not now. "You don't have to make everything so damn difficult!"

"Difficult?" Percy asked incredulously. "This isn't difficult. This is _easy_. It never happened. Can't we just leave it at that?" He pleaded. Bill stood to the side, expression unreadable.

"Percy—"

"Charlie," Bill finally spoke up, stepping forward. "Leave him be. He needs time to," a slow smile stretched across his face, "_process_ last night, no doubt." His eyes dropped to Percy's waist, and the younger man felt like he'd explode from the sudden wave of embarrassment. Grinding his teeth, he spun on his heel.

"You know where the door is!"

"Percy!" Charlie's voice carried after him.

Percy snapped his wand out, flicking it behind him. When the door slammed shut, muffling their shouts, he let out a sigh of relief.

"It never happened," he repeated, walking into the bathroom—

Only to immediately walk back out after catching a good look at the marks down his neck. Running a hand through his hair, he slumped against the wall. "Oh, hell."

*

If he'd been under the impression that either of his brothers were willing to forget about The Incident, the following Monday promptly cleared that misconception from his mind. He'd been in his office for barely five minutes when the door swung open and Charlie waltzed in, blessedly clothed.

And Percy was _not_ disappointed about that. Not one bit.

"What do you want?" He asked, eyes trained on his desk, hands gripping the arms of his chair so tight his knuckles turned white.

"A lot of things!" Charlie seemed in a good mood, at least, much better than when he'd been forcibly ejected from Percy's flat only a few days earlier. "I have a proposition for you."

"I don't want to be propositioned by you!"

"I said _for_ you," Charlie frowned, abruptly shifting to a grin. "But I see where your mind's been!"

"It hasn't been anywhere!" Percy said, panicked. "Malaysia!"

"Ma—what?"

"Malaysia," he said, grabbing the report off his desk. "Cauldron—"

"Oh hell, not that, Percy!" Charlie dropped into the seat opposite his desk. The Minister usually sat there. Or some other peon. Percy gave Charlie a look and then went back to his papers, determined not to give in to whatever his brother was about to propose.

Charlie kicked his legs up, crossing his ankles on Percy's organized desk. "Your feet," the younger man said stiffly, "are on my cauldron quality assurance report. Remove them."

"Are they?" Charlie grinned. "Ah, so they are." He slid his feet back and forth over the parchment, and Percy could practically _hear_ the ink smudging.

"Charlie!"

"How about this," Charlie's feet slowed but didn't stop. "Come over tonight," he tried. "You and Me. And Bill," he added. "We need to talk."

"We don't," Percy denied, but his eyes were glued to the desk.

"We do. Come on, Percy."

"I—" He didn't know what he wanted, and he hardly knew what to expect anymore. The moment he'd managed to compose himself after they'd left, he'd wanked himself raw, blowing his load to the memory of Bill in his mouth and Charlie in his arse. It was wrong, that stubbornly moral voice in the back of his mind protested. Very wrong! But the memory, how it all felt—

He broke, gave in. "All right." He sagged in his seat, closing his eyes. "I'll meet you."

"At my flat," Charlie prodded.

"At your flat. Now just—Let me get back to work."

Charlie left without another word, his fingers grazing the top of Percy's hand as he stepped into the office Floo.

The workday trickled by, leaving Percy in a state of agitation. Every five minutes, he'd glance up at the clock and wish for it to both speed up and slow down. He couldn't focus on Malaysian Cauldron Regulations, or office gossip, or any of the other trite things he normally used to fill his day. Strange grunts and bangs kept sounding in the office across from his, wizards and witches wandering the halls, still celebrating. At one point, a short, round little man who he vaguely recognized from his father's department poked his head in and declared in a booming voice that there celebrations to attend to, did he not know what day it was?

"The anniversary of the war was _Friday_," he informed the man. "As in, _three days ago_." That fact, however, didn't seem to put the man off celebrating at all. Percy heard him not three minutes later banging into another office down the hall with the same declarations.

Three nights ago. Percy froze in his seat, the room suddenly hotter. Oh, he remembered what he'd been doing three nights ago, plastered out of his mind with one of his brothers on either end, moving and moving and—

"Think about something else," he muttered, shifting in his suddenly too-tight pants. He thought of—of Ron and that girl, the one he was always snogging, Hermione, only that turned to Ron snogging _Harry_, leaving him with a whole different set of problems. Groaning in frustration, he dropped his head onto his desk, breathing deeply. The image shifted, Ron's lanky form slipping to Bill, tall and lean, longhaired, his fang earring the only thing he wore aside from his own skin. And suddenly, Harry was less Harry and more _Charlie_, all broad shoulders and wicked grins, his hands on Bill.

He let out a shaky breath, trying his damnedest to remind himself that it was _wrong_ to think of them like that, to want their hands on him. His dick was leaking in his trousers, his mind unable to stop himself from replaying that night, hearing their voices and feeling the heat as though they were there right then, working him up at _work_ of all places!

The clock had barely made it to eleven when Percy sent a frantic message to his secretary pleading ill, running headlong into the Floo and out into his sitting room.

Just a few hours and he'd be with them doing Merlin only knew what, and fuck, he couldn't even wait. His kicked his trousers and pants off, barely managing to get a hand around his cock and jerk it once before it pulsed in his hand, shooting off all over his work robes and his sofa. Breathing hard, he melted into the seat.

He was, without a doubt, utterly _doomed_.

*

Charlie's flat was always loud. He'd gotten it just after the war, wanting a place to go whenever he felt like coming home, that wasn't the Burrow. A man needed space, he'd confided, and the Burrow had very little to spare. His flat, on the other hand, really didn't have much more. The inside was a disturbingly bright orange that only Ron would have picked, and the furniture was all strange poufs and crochet afghans hanging everywhere. It had Molly Weasley written all over it.

He hadn't been able to work up the nerve to Floo directly there, so instead Percy Apparated just down the road in an alleyway behind a muggle diner and walked the rest of the way, the chilly evening air clearing his head. By the time he knocked on the door, he was very nearly breathing like a normal human being.

"Well, if it isn't my darling baby brother!" Bill dragged him in the door. "I was wondering if you were going to blow us off."

"I wouldn't do that," Percy said. And he wouldn't. Bill raised a brow at the nervous quaver in the younger man's voice but thankfully refrained from commenting.

"In here!" Charlie called. "Bedroom!" Percy's heart seized up, his blood freezing in his veins before abruptly surging south. Bill chuckled, pushing Percy forward, a hand resting on the small of his back.

He felt oddly young with Bill guiding him, reminded of the days when he'd wanted nothing more than their attention. The tables, it seemed, had finally shifted in his favor.

"Good to see you," Charlie said, slapping Percy's shoulder. "I hope I didn't, ah, disturb you at work, or anything." Bill nodded shrewdly, and Percy could see the silent communication. Charlie apparently had crossed some line they'd meant not to.

"It's fine," he said. _I only ended up nearly wanking at my desk._

"Listen," Bill looked a bit uncomfortable. "I, ah—Look, we're sorry, you know, about the other night. We thought you wanted to. With us," he tacked on. Percy stood quietly for a moment, his heart hammering in his chest.

They were going to send him off. He could see it in their faces, like they'd done something wrong and expected him to absolve them. A fierce thrill of want swept through him at the idea of it, of his brothers, the giants of his childhood, wanting him.

"I—" His tongue felt thick. "I didn't stay at work!" He blurted. Charlie frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"After you left," he spoke hurriedly, before he lost his nerve. "I couldn't stay. I just kept thinking and—and I had to go home."

"Go home?"

"And wank," he clarified. "Several times."

There, he thought with satisfaction, it was all out in the open. He'd admitted it, Merlin help him, he'd admitted he wanted them, and if they turned him away now, he wasn't sure what he would do.

"You mean that?" Bill's voice dropped to a husky low, his eyes gleaming.

"You went home and wanked?" Charlie picked up. "To us?"

"Yes," Percy said, willing himself to not hyperventilate.

"You wanted it," Charlie said, the wonder evident in his voice. He looked at Bill. "I told you," he stood up. "I told you he wanted it!"

"We thought we'd pushed you into it," Bill said.

"I didn't want to, you know." Percy shrugged. "I didn't want to want it. It's—"

"We're brothers," Charlie said. "Remember? We share everything, always have, right? So why not this?"

"Aren't there laws against this sort of thing?"

"If there were," two sets of arms went around him, "the Malfoys would have died out ages ago!"

He laughed, but it was stifled, his mind clouding with that same want from earlier, not caring what they did so long as it was the three of them.

"I'm not really sure how to do this," Percy admitted, sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed.

"You don't need to," Charlie's chest burned against his back, and Percy leaned into the familiar warmth. "We do."

"And do we ever!" Bill grinned widely, the scars stretching across his face. For a moment, his older brothers, grinning wickedly, looked just like the twins. Percy groaned at the sudden influx of images, Fred and George together, moving, Fred's mouth on—

"Oh, _fuck_!"

"That's more like it!" Charlie's hand squeezed tight, and the older man peered over Percy's shoulder. "And here I was, wondering if you'd even be able to get it up!"

"Your hand's on his cock," Bill snorted. "It would be difficult _not_ to, I think."

"Right you are!"

"Just shut up!" Percy rasped. "Shut up, and get on with it!" He would have kept right on talking, but Bill leaned forward, pressing their mouths together, his tongue sliding along the curve of their joined lips. Behind them, Charlie groaned, and Percy felt the quick slide of knuckles against his back, his cock pulsing. Charlie was _wanking_, right behind him, wanking to him and Bill—

They were pressed together, all three of them, Percy perched on the edge of the bed, Charlie molded to his back, and Bill's knees trapping Percy's thighs down. It was awkward, messy, and wrong, but it was just so _alive_. Charlie let out a stream of curses, his knuckles sliding against Percy's back, dragging against the skin. Bill's mouth was moving, working sharp teeth down the side of his neck, his hand pushing Charlie's away and grabbing Percy's dick against his own, tugging in unison.

"Wait!" The words fell from his lips of their own accord. "I want—"

"What?" He didn't know who was asking, didn't think it mattered.

"Like—like before," he said, breathing heavy. The weight on the bed redistributed quickly, and Percy was on his hands and knees so suddenly that he couldn't tell who had moved him.

"Then we'll do it your way." Charlie's cock, swollen and dripping, bobbed wetly against his face, leaving a smear of come from his cheeks to his lips. He didn't stop to think, his mouth wide and searching, taking his brother in. He bobbed on the top for a moment, pushing and pulling his lips, up and down, before backing off. Tonguing the slit, his eyes fell shut. He'd just begun taking it fully into his mouth when Bill's fingers, slicked and ready, slid into him, wriggling and hooking relentlessly. He inhaled sharply, taking a bit more of Charlie's cock in than he'd meant to, nearly sucking the head down his throat.

Charlie groaned, fingers threading into his hair, not letting him pull off. His throat flexed around the swollen flesh, his tongue pushing into the pulsing vein.

Bill was muttering behind them, fingers working sharply, and all too soon, it seemed, Percy was empty. He groaned discontentedly around his mouthful of Charlie, pushing his arse back.

"He definitely likes this," he heard Bill rasp. Charlie gave a breathless laugh, his hands playing gently in curled red hair. "Come on, then," he said, and if Percy's mouth weren't full, he'd be echoing that sentiment, _come on, get in_! And then, he was.

Bill pushed in quickly, his hips circling as his cock slid home in one fluid motion. The momentum sent Percy forward, pushing him harder onto Charlie's cock. Charlie grunted, pushing back, bearing Percy down against Bill, until they were caught in the cycle, wet slapping sounds filtering through the grunts and groans, over and over, until Percy felt so full he was certain he'd never need anything again.

His mind threw him back, his body heated and slack, and he heard the thought, the desperate wish to just have them forever. When he opened his eyes, the strange dragon across Charlie's chest winked at him, blowing fire, and Percy swore he could feel the heat on his face. His body jerked as Bill gave a particularly sharp thrust, hips slapping harshly into his arse, and Percy was coming. He was the trigger, and his body tightened, clamping down on the two cocks thrusting in either end.

Charlie pulled out and grabbed himself, jerking furiously. Percy leaned his cheek against the head, eyes closing when he felt it pulse, Charlie letting out a furious stream of curses as he came. Bill gripped his waist tightly, grinding into him, not even able to thrust. A wet heat spread inside, and Percy's elbows gave way, his cheek falling into Charlie's thighs as the eldest emptied himself.

For a moment, no one moved. Percy could feel their hearts beating, Charlie's against his cheek and Bill's _inside_ him. He relaxed on to the bed, wincing just barely when Bill pulled out.

"Well," Charlie said, winded. "_Well_."

"I don't suppose we'll be able to do that again?" Percy asked blearily. Charlie and Bill grinned at each other over their brother's prone body.

"Yeah," Bill said. "I think we can manage."

Perhaps it wouldn't be so difficult after all.﻿


End file.
